The recent events in Istanbul have me pondering my trip there- particularly to the exact moment when I fell in love with that city.

It is not difficult for water to tug at the emotions, nor for antique forms of transport to do the same. There is of course the magical experience when you encounter both in a foreign land. That is how I fell in love with Istanbul. It was inevitable. The ferries that ply the waters of the Bosphorus are white, historic vessels, with aged wooden planks. To board, one must purchase a ferry token, and wait in a great hall till the ferry arrives and the deck hands slide out the boards and walkways. The decks and cabins are mingled with people of every heritage and style drinking tea and chatting quietly.

The sun was setting on my return trip from Kadikoy. I was smitten. I was transported (literally and figuratively).

As the world begins to notice the current events in Istanbul, those of us who love that city are watching with even greater expectation. It is heart-breaking to see such a beautiful people desecrated by fascism. When I posted a week and a half ago about revolution brewing- I thought it was perhaps a few years off... I had no idea it would strike so immediately and with such bloody results. It is terrifying to witness. My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Turkey right now.